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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25256875">The Smallest Spark</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Okami_Soyo/pseuds/Okami_Soyo'>Okami_Soyo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Lifelong Friendship [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Gen, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Pre-Canon, Zuko (Avatar) Has Issues</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:14:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,302</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25256875</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Okami_Soyo/pseuds/Okami_Soyo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of Zuko being angry and obsessed with finding the Avatar, what if he falls into a state of depression? What if he loses his firebending? What if he realizes the Fire Nation was never really his home at all? Thus begins the tale of Zuko finding the spark in his life again.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iroh &amp; Zuko (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Lifelong Friendship [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830799</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>107</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Smallest Spark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>so... this is a fan fic idea that's both emotional venting for me and plot idea gone wild<br/>i just played with the idea of zuko not being able to firebend because of what that firelord asshole did to him<br/>makes sense in my head</p><p>btw ill be adding tags as the story progresses, as to not spoil you guys ;0<br/>dont worry tho, nothing bad really</p><p>edit: lafkjdlkasdj my apologies but this is not a oneshot!! it'll be a story of a long series</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Breath. </p><p>In. </p><p>Out.</p><p>Breath. </p><p>In. </p><p>Out.</p><p>Breath...</p><p>
  <i>“You will learn respect—”</i>
</p><p>Breath!</p><p>
  <i>“—And suffering will be your teacher!”</i>
</p><p>Zuko screams himself awake. His skin is on fire. Everything burns. Everything hurts.</p><p>It hurts.</p><p>It hurts!</p><p>“Prince Zuko!”</p><p>“No! Please!” Zuko cries out, feeling someone push his body down. Something cold and wet touches the burning skin. It sends a chill down his spine, but his body isn't alight anymore. His vision returns, but it disorients him. He squints, darting everywhere to his new surroundings. Something runs down his face, as he tries to lift a hand in the air. Rough hands tenderly keep his hand still. Out of the corner of his right eye, he sees—</p><p>“...Uncle?”</p><p>Zuko falls into darkness.</p>
<hr/><p>His skin coils up, especially on his left side, when he tries to open his eyes. He breaths and opens only his right eye instead. It is a struggle to keep it open, as he adjusts to the dim and flickering lights from the candles. He knows it, as it gives off a fragrance. He stares up at the steel ceiling. Closing his eye, he takes a deep breath and tries to sit up. </p><p>The left side of his face burns.</p><p>It burns too much.</p><p>
  <i>Make it stop...!</i>
</p><p>Zuko tries to reach out to his left eye, but feels something soft. His fingers graze around it. Every nerve hisses out.</p><p>“Prince Zuko, please,” Iroh calls out from his left side. His blood rushes a little faster. Not being able to see him sets him on edge, even if he's safe with him. He knows it's safe yet he can't. He tries to breath and calm himself, but fails. It must have shown, for his uncle speaks again, softly. “Do not touch it.” He tenses when Iroh grasps his hand and lowers it to his side. His skin tightens when something slides off, but it's nothing compared to the sudden air on his skin. Thankfully, it doesn't last, as the wet cloth presses against it. To Zuko, the cloth felt as if it was dipped into the coldest waters from the poles. He tries to relax, as his uncle pats the area around his left eye.</p><p>“Uncle,” Zuko calls out, his voice hoarse. </p><p>“Yes, Prince Zuko?”</p><p>Zuko feels the cloth leave his face. He wants it to return, but he hears water rushing somewhere and the cloth returns again. He gathers his thoughts. So many questions race in his mind. What to ask first. What took the most importance?</p><p>“Where...”</p><p>“We're aboard a ship, the Wani, nephew.”</p><p>“When...” Why isn't he able to complete a full sentence? He's thankful and ashamed that his uncle picked it up so easily. </p><p>“It has been a few days since...” His uncle stops, pondering his next choice of words. But Zuko isn't patient.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>
  <i>Why are we on a ship?</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Why aren't we in the Fire Nation?</i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <strike>Why did father let me live?</strike>
  </i>
</p><p>Zuko isn't sure how to ask the last question aloud. He feels the cloth halt all movement. He tries moving his head, to get a better angle of his uncle, but his left side tugs painfully. He stays still unfortunately. </p><p>“Please, Prince Zuko, you mustn't irritate it.”</p><p>Zuko grunts, staring at the ceiling again. The next words weigh on his mind. They're caught in his throat, tight, and heavy on his tongue. His lips press into a fine line, as he shuts his right eye tightly. The burning sensation returns despite the water being ice cold, but he opens his mouth.</p><p>“Why aren't we home?”</p><p>The air in the room grows heavy. Every growing moment makes his heart pound against his chest. He can't tell if it's his body shaking or his uncle's hand. He hears his uncle's breathing, trying to ground himself, and his uncle takes a deep breath. </p><p>“Your fa—” Iroh chokes. “The Firelord has banished you from the Fire Nation after the duel. In his own words—” Zuko now knows it's his uncle who is trembling. “'You may only return if you capture the Avatar. Only then your honor be restored.'”</p><p>Zuko's gold eye widens. His lungs tightens up, the air forcibly leaving them. </p><p>The Avatar...</p><p>A myth.</p><p>A fairy tale.</p><p>The most powerful person, a bridge between worlds, who has not been seen in almost a century.</p><p>And Zuko must find and capture the Avatar to return home?</p><p>His honor...</p><p>His home...</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“Prince—” Iroh halts. </p><p>Zuko's eyes are closed, as tears run down his face. </p><p>A banished prince.</p><p>A disgraceful prince.</p><p>A prince with no home.</p><p>If he has none of those things, who is he?</p>
<hr/><p>Members of the crew watch from afar. They see the former general come in and out of the prince's room, carrying a bin and cloth. Sometimes with a tray of food too. A few of them asked him if he needs assistance, but they are turned away. They know better than to question his authority. Yet every time they see the general after he visits his nephew, his face is tight with frustration and sadness. It disappears suddenly when he spots one of them nearby, wearing a smile. They assume that the prince has done something to warrant those looks.</p><p>Yet...</p><p>The members of the crew know better. They know because of the howling screams that pierce through the empty hallways in the middle of the night. They know when a few of them pass by the room, hearing grunts of pain. They know how much food is sent to the prince's room and how little of it has been eaten when sent back to the kitchens.</p><p>The crew knows better, but wait.</p>
<hr/><p>Zuko is able to sit up after a week of lying in bed. He tries to gather more energy to move, but his body refuses. He groans, frustrated, but gives up. His hands lie in his lap. Lightning strikes across the sky, enveloping the room for a fraction of a second and disappearing right after, seen through the tiny window across the room. He listens to the heavy rain, pounding and striking against the steel ship, accompanied by the booming thunder. The room boxing him in grows colder than usual. He wishes for the warmth of his room back at the palace.</p><p>The palace...</p><p>His home...</p><p>Zuko is so far away from his home. Carefully, he flips his hand over and tries to summon fire—</p><p>Zuko finds himself back, kneeling at his father—the Firelord's feet. Panic surges forth. He wants to throw up, even though his stomach is empty. He needs to get away. Smoke fills his lungs. He can't breath—His left side burns.</p><p>
  <i>“AND SUFFERING WILL BE YOUR TEACHER!”</i>
</p><p>Zuko gags, balling his hands up. He follows it up with a fit of coughs, trying to make the smoke exit his lungs. There is no smoke. There is no fire. But his body is burning. Sweat runs down his face. He hunches over, covering the left side of his face. Everything swirls in his vision. It's dizzying. His breathing is erratic. He hates it. He hates this. He hates his weakness. He hates—</p><p>He hates himself.</p><p>Zuko shuts his right eye, unable to hold back the traitorous tears. His mind races with all of the thoughts. Why didn't he fight back? Why couldn't he fight back? It was his fault that he was a coward. It was his fault that he disrespected the Firelord. It was his fault that his father burned—</p><p>…</p><p>Was...</p><p>Was it his fault?</p><p>Was it really his fault?</p><p>Zuko digs deep into his memories. He remembers. He remembers Lu Ten. Lu Ten and Uncle Iroh. He remembers their relationship and how it resembled nothing like his relationship with his fa—the Firelord. Despite the few memories, he remembers it all. He has seen how his uncle lights up with pride and joy at Lu Ten's accomplishments. How his uncle comforts his cousin during his lowest days.</p><p>Zuko never forgot the look on his uncle's face when he talked about missing Lu Ten. </p><p>That is a father. </p><p>The Firelord is not a father.</p><p>The Firelord was never a father.</p><p>A father would never scar his child.</p><p>And yet...!</p><p>His left hand clutches tightly, pressing against his wound. His right hand grasps the blanket, throwing it off. He finds himself standing, anger coursing through his body. He looks around the room, seeing nothing but the Fire Nation. The country of his birth. The country of his home. </p><p>The country that turned its back on him.</p><p>“AAAARGH!”</p><p>Zuko screams. Screams at the top of his lungs. A scream that is drowned out by the storm. His body burns. He's burning. He dashes around the room, shoving memorabilia to the ground. Glass shatters upon impact. Objects break against the wall. He spots his swords. His own swords that he found pride in, but never his father—the man who birthed him. The man who cared not for his strengths, but criticized his weaknesses. He draws them, reveling in their shine, and turns around. The flag of the Fire Nation hangs, the symbol of the country which has hurt him. </p><p>And he slashes it.</p><p>Zuko slashes at the flag, tearing into it. He yells with every swing of his sword. Every seam breaks apart. He slashes. He keeps slashing, even when sparks fly from the steel edges meeting the steel walls. He stops after a while, panting heavily.</p><p>Then, the realization dawns on him. Zuko stares at the wall, covered in marks that can't be removed. He drops his swords. Taking a moment to breath, he turns, ready to collapse, and sees a mirror. A mirror that has miraculously survived his destruction. Half of his face is covered, and the other half is a tear-stained mess. His hair is strewn up in a phoenix tail, representing everything about his life in the Fire Nation. Tight. Rigid. Swaying to the direction he blindly followed before.</p><p>No. </p><p>No longer.</p><p>Zuko spots the dagger on the damaged cabinet. His precious gift from uncle. With a sharp inhale, he strides towards it and looks back at the mirror. In one fell swoop, his hair falls to the ground and lets out a pained howl.</p><p>It is done.</p><p>His hand on the dagger loosens and falls, clattering against the floor. He walks over to the mirror, unable to feel the multiple broken glass and shards under his feet. He lowers himself to his knees, staring at the reflection. His hand finds its way to the top of the bandage, keeping the cloth secured against his face, and pulls. He pulls and pulls—</p><p>Zuko stares at his scar.</p><p>Zuko stares at the scar.</p><p>Zuko stares at a scar—The mark given to him by his own country.</p><p>His hand reaches out towards the mirror. Zuko touches the scar in his reflection, taking note of every damage to his face. When he blinks, he sees an image of his former self overlap. Blinking again, it's his scar staring back. His vision blurs. His jaws tighten up. His hand slides down, falling off the mirror. Hunching his shoulders, he cries. The left side of his face stings from the fresh tears running down his face. He doesn't care. He can't care. He presses his forehead against the mirror, closing his eyes, and sobs loudly. He wishes for his face to be restored. He wishes for the Agni Kai to have never happened. He wishes for...</p><p>Zuko wishes for a home he never had.</p><p>SLAM!</p><p>“Nephew?!”</p><p>Through his blurred vision, Zuko slowly lifts his head and sees his uncle's anguished expression. Suddenly, he's pulled into a tight embrace. Those arms he thought as fragile grip around his back so tightly, he thought he'd snap in half. His strength is sapped away, leaning into the warm of the only family he has left. Tears continue running down his face.</p><p>“Nephew...” Iroh chokes up. Zuko mumbles quietly. “What is it?” The older man puts distance between them, enough to see his nephew. His nephew who looks so lost, so...broken.</p><p>“I...” Zuko squeezes his eyes shut, covering his left eye. He inhales too fast, saying, “I hate him.”</p><p>Iroh doesn't move as his nephew continue speaking.</p><p>“I hate him! I hate it there! I hate—” Zuko lets out another gasp, choking on his sobbing. His head spins. Everything aches. But his body isn't burning anymore. Finally, he whispers, “I hate the Fire Nation!”</p><p>“Nephew—”</p><p>“Why should I love a place when it was never a home?!” Zuko stares into Iroh's eyes, desperately pleading for an answer. The anger from before is gone. Now, it's just cold. Empty. He feels no fire. Slowly, he finds himself pressed against his uncle's chest. The tension melts away, as he listens to his uncle's heartbeat. His sobbing becomes quiet. </p><p>“I'm sorry uncle.”</p><p>“Never apologize nephew,” his uncle speaks softly. Zuko notes how genuine his uncle's words are, compared to his fa—the Firelord's insincere tone. “You are allowed to feel, to be angry and sad.”</p><p>“I don't...” Zuko takes a deep breath, finding it in himself to clutch to his uncle's shoulders. “I don't know if I can firebend anymore.”</p><p>“That is all right.”</p><p>“How can you say that?! What good am I without firebending?” </p><p>“You are my nephew.” Iroh says with an absoluteness. He puts distance between them, letting Zuko see it in his eyes. Tears run down his face, but he offers a smile. “You are Zuko, a young boy who loves swords and theater. You are my nephew, despite your aversion to tea, but we are getting there.”</p><p>Zuko sniffles, being unable to smile, but returns to Iroh's warmth.</p><p>The two stay there for a while, as the storm is drowned out by the sound of a steady heartbeat.</p>
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